Tomatoes
by ThePurpleRose
Summary: Everyone knows Lloyd hates tomatoes but nobody, including Lloyd, knows the real reason why - except for one person. Hopefully it won't take more than one near-death experience to get the answer. Oyako. Father-son fluff.


**AN: I am on a roll today! It seems that being ill gets the fanfiction juices flowing – though sadly not the original fiction ones... I have three books on the go and many others waiting to be written...**

**But yeah, I finished this one today. It was supposed to be the first part of my oyako collection, ****Hereditary****, but then I realised it didn't quite fit the link of that collection, so that'll be up when I finish the second (now first one).**

**So here's some oyako that I originally started at 0:04 23/12/10... For some reason I wrote the date and time at the top... Probably to remind myself to proof-read... The plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone...**

**But anyway, on with the oyako! Hope you enjoy!**

**This does refer to the extra load in the manga, in which Kratos tells Lloyd that he had a wife and a child and that the Desians killed them. And the sections in italics are flashbacks. Now it really is time for the fic.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS, hence the 'Fan' in fanfiction...**_

* * *

It wasn't that strange a situation since the Tethe'allan girl had joined them, Kratos mused. But there was still something unnatural about witnessing Raine hovering over a shoulder that wasn't Lloyd's or Colette's when it was time to cook dinner.

It wasn't that Lloyd and Colette were the only ones to cook, in fact, it was rare that either of them should cook dinner; their attention spans were better suited to lunch and meals of the sandwich or salad variety – though Colette was also able to prepare pasta.

No, it was just that the more experiences cooks among them, Genis and himself, tended to have the sense to wave the meat-murderer away from the dishes lest they give her any more ideas to fuel her elaborate culinary 'creations'. And yet, this ninja, as far as Kratos had seen, was a fairly adept cook and awkwardly allowed the healer to watch over her shoulder until Genis, as he had now, dragged her away to watch him perform a new spell or quiz him oh ancient history of geography.

"Hey, Kratos?"

Kratos grunted to portray that he was listening as Lloyd fidgeted in front of him. Even if he was his sword teacher – and secretly thought of as an older brother in Lloyd's mind – the mercenary was difficult to approach, always apart from the group if he could manage it, always cold and silent.

"Well I was just wondering where your parents live," he admitted. "Sheena said she doesn't have parents and Genis doesn't either, and Colette and I have our dads but they're not our real dads, so I was just wondering..."

"My parents are dead," Kratos told him coolly.

"Oh," Lloyd responded, toying with the hilt of one of his swords awkwardly. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kratos told him, his cool, calculating eyes softening a little. "They died a long time ago and I am an adult and perfectly capable of functioning on my own."

There was a brief silence, broken as Lloyd turned and plopped onto the ground next to him. "It's sad," he said, staring straight ahead, into the camp.

"Hmm?"

"Parent's are supposed to love you, protect you and look after you," the boy elaborated. "But none of us have them anymore. I know Dad loves me, and I know Mum loved me, but I wish I knew her better, her and my real dad."

The conversation was crossing into dangerous territory and Kratos was unable to look into Lloyd's face, instead lowering his eyes to the floor beneath his son's feet where they belonged.

"From my experience," he said softly, lowered eyes drifting closed, "I would have to say that in all but the most extreme of cases, a father could never stop loving his child, no matter the circumstances he is under, even if the child no longer loves him."

The realisation fell on Lloyd like a broken rheaird.

Eyes wide, he turned back to the mercenary and stated, "I'm sorry. Your kid – I mean, I didn't mean to upset you. I..." he trailed off; Kratos opening his mouth to put the boy at ease before Lloyd cut in again, "If I was your kid, I'd love you."

Kratos gasped, despite being certain that Lloyd wouldn't be saying that if he knew, would truly hate him if he ever found out.

"It wasn't your fault the Desians-"

"It was," Kratos interrupted coldly. "I couldn't protect them when I swore that I would with my life."

Lloyd frowned. "You can't think like that!" he berated. "It's obvious you really love them."

Kratos shook his head. "Love cannot return them to me. My son would not want to call a failure such as myself his father."

"If you were my dad, I'd still want to call you Dad."

Kratos' sharp intake of breath and anything else Lloyd might have been going to add was lost as Sheena announced it was dinner.

Lloyd immediately jumped up. Remembering Kratos half-way through his third step and awkwardly turning back to him, rubbing at the back of his neck and only briefly flicking his eyes over to the dumbstruck Kratos.

"You coming?"

Snapping himself out of it and suppressing the smile he knew he shouldn't have, Kratos nodded and stood, following Lloyd into camp to have a bowl of recent Mizuho cuisine thrust into his hands by Raine, with a fork and a spoon in the absence of chopsticks. He sat in the impromptu circle formed by the group at every meal, Lloyd situated next to him with Colette, and Sheena maintaining a respectful distance from his other side.

He poked a piece of spiced meat in its bed of rice and what appeared to be some kind of sweet and sour sauce. It wasn't a meal he was familiar with but Genis, who sat opposite him, seemed to be enjoying it, so he could be sure that, at the very least, it was better than Raine's culinary efforts.

He stabbed the piece of meat, adding rice and sauce to it with the back of his spoon and experimentally popped in into his mouth as Raine swallowed and declared, "A very interesting combination of flavours, Sheena. I simply must know what you mixed into this dish."

Sheena sported a look reminiscent of a rabbit that had spotted Yggdrasil in tantrum-mode, a look shared by Genis, who moved to distract his sister but had his attempt pre-empted by Lloyd, who commented, "It tastes funny."

"I think it's really nice," Colette said, smiling apologetically towards Sheena. "Thank you, Sheena."

"I like it, Lloyd," Genis retorted as Kratos coughed.

Sheena stirred her food with the fork. "I'll use less spices on yours, next time," she promised.

Another hacking cough forced its way out of the mercenary, this one continuing into a barrage of coughing that gave him the appearance of choking as he frantically fumbled for his water canteen. Retrieving it, he flicked open the lid and stuffed it into his mouth, gulping greedily at the cooling liquid before another cough caused him to spray water onto the ground. He took another drink, the coughing fading to leave him gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" Genis asked, Raine frowning next to him.

Kratos' mouth opened wider in an attempt to say something but nothing came out except another hasty, wheezing breath.

"Kratos?" Lloyd tried, nudging his sword teacher's shoulder.

This time, Kratos managed a slight, strangled groan, his eyes snapping to the red-clad form that now danced in the foreground of his blurred, fading vision. His chest and his throat were so unbelievably tight that simply breathing felt like the gargantuan effort of descending the Tower of Salvation on foot at a sprint.

He swayed, his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head as Genis yelled, "Raine!"

Lloyd leapt forwards to catch the older man before he hit the ground, holding his head and shoulders steady as the auburn-haired man jerked and gasped, his already pale face stark white as his swollen lips took on a blue tint.

Lloyd was vaguely aware of Raine quickly casting a multitude of healing spells, and of Colette picking up the fallen water canteen and stroking Kratos' hair, softly assuring, "It's okay, Mr Kratos. It'll be okay."

"Don't die don't die don't die don't die don't die."

Someone was repeating it: a mantra of sorts. Lloyd barely registered through the near-overpowering fear that it was him as he stared at the mercenary in horror, flickers of feelings from a forgotten memory flashing in the foreground of his mind.

* * *

'_Daddy! I'm scared! Daddy? Daddy! You're scaring me!'_

'_Lloyd, come away from Daddy. Draw Daddy a picture to make him better."_

"_Mommy, I'm scared! I want Daddy! I'm scared!"_

"_Oh, Yuan! Thank Goddess! I'll take Lloyd outside. Come on, Lloyd."_

"_No, I want Daddy! Want Daddy!"_

"_Go on, Lloyd. Uncle Yuan'll use some magic to make your Daddy better, okay? Kratos, can you hear me?"_

"_Daddy!"_

"_We're going outside now, Lloyd!"_

"_Daddy!"_

"_Kratos, can you hear me yet?"_

"_Kratos! Kra-"_

* * *

"..tos? Can you hear me?"

Kratos gave a low groan as consciousness returned to him with a throbbing of his skull. His eyes remained closed, screwed tightly shut to block out the light in the hope that sleep would not continue to elude him and he could return to being blissfully unaware of the dulled pain in his chest and the rigid burn of his throat.

It didn't work. He was awake and sure to be fussed over as he was every time he had an 'episode', which he knew he had; he'd sadly had enough of them to recognise that 'post-episode discomfort' as Yuan had labelled it when he had been trying to persuade his half-elven friend that he was perfectly alright once it was over.

He wasn't but the mind (delusion) was a powerful thing. After meeting Mithos, you couldn't dispute that.

His heavy eyelids gradually prised themselves open to face the world, locking onto the hovering figure of not Martel, not Anna, not Yuan – who it usually was – but Raine. Except there were two of her.

He blinked. There was Raine, frowning at him with Sheena peering awkwardly and guiltily over her shoulder. A hand stroked his hair, prompting his eyes to journey upwards, not having the energy to flinch. Colette smiled back; Lloyd sat beside her.

"Are you feeling better?" the Chosen asked in her upbeat, musical tone.

Kratos didn't respond, instead focussing his energy on observing Lloyd, whose entire body boiled in emotions. In his eyes, Kratos could see fear, anger, concern and something else – something he couldn't name but had been there a while, since before their ill-fated dinner. Lloyd's hands were shaking.

His parental instincts thoroughly awakened, Kratos readied his tongue and opened his mouth to mobilise it and form the words he held in his mind, but Raine took over, gently grasping his chin to force him to look into her eyes.

She studied them for a moment, the fingertips on her other hand glowing green before she nodded approvingly.

"That was quite a severe allergic reaction," she commented. "You went into anaphylactic shock."

"Haven't done that in a while," Kratos managed to mutter, appalled by how weak his voice sounded.

"Why didn't you tell us you had such a dangerous allergy?" the healer interrogated.

A small sound of discomfort escaped the mercenary's throat as he tried to push himself into a sitting position but failed and was rewarded with a disapproving glare.

"I haven't had a reaction since before my... before my wife died," he croaked.

If Raine was having any difficulties imagining him married, as Lloyd had, she didn't show it, one eyebrow merely rising to convey how stupid she thought it was that he hadn't shared that information for such a reason.

She turned away from him, to the ninja behind her, with the question, "What ingredients did you use?"

"I am allergic to tomatoes," he revealed, sparing the Tethe'allan from Raine's interrogation.

A poorly veiled gasp alerted the mercenary to the presence of Genis, washing the cooking equipment by the fire.

"I thought you and Lloyd just didn't like them!" he exclaimed, "I've just been picking them out of your food! I'm sorry Kratos; I didn't know-"

"Nobody did," Raine said firmly, interrupting her younger brother. "But we know now. We should all just let Kratos rest. We will not move on until he has recovered."

With that, she stood and joined her brother by the fire. Sheena lingered a little longer, until Colette, who gave Kratos' head one last pat and told him how much she hoped he would get well, had left to mumble her own apologies, which he instantly and firmly accepted.

Lloyd did not leave. His fists were clenched and shaking.

"Lloyd," Kratos prompted.

There was a pause before the younger swordsman breathed, "I thought you were gonna die."

"I would not be killed by a mere tomato, Lloyd," Kratos assured him softly, a memory turning up the corners of his lips in an unnoticed smile.

_

* * *

_

The toddler sniffled, tears welling in his eyes as he pulled himself up onto the bed, where his father was nestled beneath the covers.

"_Daddy!" he cried, clutching at Kratos' sleeve desperately._

"_Yes, Lloyd," Kratos managed, slurring through sleep._

"_Daddy!" Lloyd tried again, shaking the arm insistently._

_Kratos' eyes opened blearily, Lloyd burying himself where his father's chest was in the covers._

"_I thought you was gonna die, Daddy!" he wailed. "I don't want my daddy to die!"_

_Kratos reached his arms fully out of the covers, hushing his distressed son while one hand stroked his hair and the other held his son against him comfortably._

"_I would not be killed by a mere tomato, Lloyd," he assured his son in soft, soothing tones. "I'm not going anywhere."_

"_Daddy?" Lloyd called with a long sniff. Puffy-eyed, he lifted himself up to look at his father._

"_Hmm?" was Kratos' response. A natural smile lit up the man's face, his eyes openly loving._

_Lloyd pouted, crossed his arms, then scowled. "I don't like 'matoes no more."_

_Kratos laughed, tickling the sulking boy's stomach until he shrieked with laughter, all fear of losing his father forgotten._

_Kratos hadn't guessed that the boy's hatred of tomatoes would remain._

* * *

Kratos' eyes traced the outlines of the remnants of constellations above the Ymir forest. He was once again a part of Lloyd's group after releasing Origin's seal to enable Lloyd and Sheena to get the pact with the King of the Summon Spirits. It was pleasant to be a part of the group once more, and to not have to hide his true loyalties under many layers of deception.

"Hey, Kratos?"

Kratos turned to see an awkwardly fidgeting Lloyd moving to stand at his side. "You should be sleeping, Lloyd," he pointed out.

"So should you after that battle," Lloyd retorted.

"Hmph. I have a Cruxis crystal and I am trained to go without rest," Kratos responded. "But you had something you wished to discuss."

"I, uh..." the swordsman trailed off. "It's not important," he decided.

Kratos fully turned his attention from the fake sky that was fading in front of the newly exposed Derris Kharlan to his son, who finally knew who he was, with an eyebrow raised.

Lloyd rubbed at the back of his neck, casting his eyes to the sky as he reluctantly admitted, "I... I remember you."

His eyes flicked to his biological father, finding that the elder swordsman he had once mistakenly referred to as a brother was studying his face intently. Lloyd's eyes migrated to Kratos' shoulder; not having the courage to meet the stoic mercenary's gaze yet.

"I don't remember much, and I wish I could remember more about Mom. It's just the little things, like, when I look back at the journey, I remember you doing stuff that you did back then and I just sorta, remember you," Lloyd clumsily explained.

Kratos smiled a slightly sad, bittersweet smile as he slowly reached out to ruffle his son's hair. An answering smile broke out on Lloyd's face, its owner capturing the hand before it could be retracted and examining it with both of his own.

"Like that," Lloyd said, running his thumb down the palm on his father's and comparing the size and shape of their fingers. "You used to do that all the time. And your hands... I used to hold your thumb then you were reading to me and you tried to turn the pages 'cause I wanted you to read for longer and you'd only read me one story before bed. And..."

He trailed off again, tracing the outline of Kratos' 'exsphere'.

"And?" Kratos prompted, the smile now predominantly one of fond memories.

Their eyes met for the first time during their exchange, Lloyd's apprehensive, Kratos' encouraging.

"I remembered," Lloyd answered quietly, "when Sheena cooked that tomato-rice dish. You told me that you "wouldn't be killed by a mere tomato". I was just thinking about it, and about how much I hate it when Genis cooks spaghetti and forgets to make me a sauce, and I remembered Mom cooking us spaghetti."

"You couldn't say it then," Kratos supplied. "You called it p'sghetti."

"She said it was chilli sauce but it was really tomato and I didn't like it, and then you had an allergenic reacti-"

"Allergic, Lloyd," Kratos corrected.

Lloyd shrugged. "Yeah, that. You had it, and I really thought you'd die, but Yuan showed up-"

"Your mother called him," Kratos explained. "He's your godfather."

"That's why I called him 'Uncle Yuan' then before Mom took me outside," Lloyd mused.

Kratos shared, "You also thought he was a fairy."

Lloyd laughed, Kratos' smile widening at the much-missed sound. Lloyd's laugh was much more mature now but mad managed to retain much of that childlike, innocent quality that Kratos remembered from all those years ago.

"Dad?" Lloyd called as the laughter subsided.

"Hmm?"

"I remembered why I don't like tomatoes," he revealed. "And if you can't have them then I don't want them anyway."

"Lloyden," Kratos began before Lloyd cut him off.

"At least you have an excuse not to eat them," the teenager muttered, pouting as he folded his arms. As they had on the toddler he had been, his features settled into a scowl as he continued, "I don't like tomatoes. They're gross _and_ they're evil."

Kratos chuckled, drawing out Lloyd's pout again before the ancient swordsman elaborated, "I seem to recall a certain boy pulling much the same expression as he told his mother that he wasn't eating her pizza for those exact reasons."

Lloyd's stomach growled loudly.

"What?" he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Genis made spaghetti."

"Would you like me to make you a sandwich?" Kratos offered, once again resting his hand in his son's hair. A thoughtful expression crossed Lloyd's face but before he could act on those thoughts, Kratos had added, "And yes, it can be beef."

Lloyd beamed at his father remembering his favourite type of sandwich. "Thanks, Dad!"

**

* * *

**

AN: There you go. One sleepy piece of oyako, typed up from a messy scrawl in my notebook. It's probably riddled with typos. I have looked but my eyes are just skimming today, really. So if you see any typos, let me know and I'll sort them out.

**It's a bit poor quality but... We've all got to start somewhere, eh? Yeah, you can tell I'm a novelist, not a flash fiction writer; it's a bit unrounded...**

**But thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it, and please, please review. Help me to improve my writing (and make my day – including conscrit)!**

**~ThePurpleRose**


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